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<title>let the dawn's yellow light gild your heart by Shadaras</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22429318">let the dawn's yellow light gild your heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/pseuds/Shadaras'>Shadaras</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Discovery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Daemons, Daemon Settling, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 08:16:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,210</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22429318</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/pseuds/Shadaras</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock's daemon settles into a sehlat overnight. The following morning, he talks about this event with his family—as much as Vulcan families can talk.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael Burnham &amp; Amanda Grayson/Sarek &amp; Spock, Michael Burnham &amp; Spock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Writing Rainbow Yellow</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>let the dawn's yellow light gild your heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRaven/gifts">LittleRaven</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Chaya settled,” Spock says as he walks into the dining room. He’s the last one there this morning: An intentional, logical choice, so that he only had to say this once. Chaya paces behind him, her shoulders as tall as his hips, and her nose just brushing his elbow if he hesitates. It’s her encouragement that allows him to step all the way through the doorway into the room where his family is breaking their fast.</p><p>Mother is delighted and showing it, smiling as Esdras looks up and huffs in delight. Her black bear daemon has been a constant companion, and Spock isn’t surprised that Chaya’s settled form resembles him on a surface level. While sehlat and bears are a beautiful and fascinating example of convergent evolution, their biology is dissimilar in many respects. For instance, while Terran bears tend to be placid creatures who only present aggressively when they or their young are threatened, they were never domesticated. The Vulcan sehlat had been domesticated for long years, in a way that Spock thought more closely resembled the Terran pig: Something that is not a common pet, but could certainly be one with the proper mindset.</p><p>Chaya pads forward, and Spock is confronted with the idea that Mother’s daemon, as big as he has always seemed, is now smaller than his. He grew taller than Mother this year as well, but somehow the idea that Chaya chose a form that’s tall enough to match is difficult to wrap his mind around. Michael’s daemon, Ariel, flutters around both Chaya and Esdras’ heads. The firefly flickers in his own enjoyment, and Spock thinks he can just about hear the three of them murmuring to each other as Spock looks at Mother’s delight and Michael’s more muted curiosity. Neither of them say anything, but he can still feel—through Chaya, through their daemons—the anticipation of a celebration of his maturity and Chaya’s chosen form.</p><p>Father, of course, is expressionless and proper as only a full-blooded Vulcan can be. Spock settles his own face and turns to face Father full-on. “I am aware that, for many who are displeased by my Terran blood, Chaya’s appearance will be an unwelcome reminder of my heritage.” He folds his hands behind his back, standing straight and precise. Father will never know how his palms sweat. “However, there is no way of changing her appearance now. I will walk with my heritage proudly visible at my side, Father, and I will continue to comport myself properly. The two are not mutually exclusive.”</p><p>Spock doesn’t look at Michael. Her daemon settled into a tiny light that could be hidden in a way that Chaya no longer can. Spock spent the night wondering if the reason that Chaya settled into such a large form, with so many natural defences, was simply a natural outgrowth of all the time he had spent asking her to be small, to be hidden, to let him try and fit in with the daemonless Vulcan children. He had known of Mother’s disapproval, but Father’s approval of his choice—and the relative decrease in bullying—had solidified his decision. Seeing Michael make the same choice—and her daemon favor it, in the end—had only confirmed what he had believed to be the best course of action.</p><p>Now, with Father’s eyebrows squeezed together a millimeter, and his lips lips turned a fraction of a degree further down, Spock isn’t sure. Maybe if he had been prouder of his human side as a child, Chaya wouldn’t have felt a need to be so visible now. Maybe if he had accepted his human soul given form, or if he had seen more humans as children—</p><p>But the past cannot be changed, so Spock simply stands and awaits his father’s judgement.</p><p>Father sighs infinitesimally. “I am pleased to see our planet is writ upon your soul, Spock.”</p><p>Spock feels his throat tighten with emotion he shouldn’t be having. “Thank you,” he says, and he thinks that it comes out steadily, or at least close enough to be mistaken for the biological issue of pubescent voice changes. “I, too, am pleased to see my heritage blended so smoothly in Chaya.” He rests a hand on her head; she doesn’t lean into his side, because to do so would risk knocking him over. She is twice his weight, after all.</p><p>“Come,” Mother says, now that the silence is broken. “Breakfast with us. I want you both to be on time for school.”</p><p>Michael groans, but she reaches for her bowl again. “Congratulations,” she says as Spock seats himself. Ariel is perched on her ear, and Spock wonders what he’s whispering to her. “I’m proud of both of you.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Chaya says, and her voice is deeper than Spock’s right now. Soon, he thinks, that will change. He’s looking forward to it. Spock takes the porridge Mother passes him and murmurs his own thanks, focusing on the much simpler issue of ingesting enough nutrients to sustain himself until lunch. The rapid pace of pubescent development requires far more than he is used to, and though Mother doesn’t say anything, she is aware as well; the portion that she served him is noticeably larger than Michael’s even accounting for the amount she could have eaten before he arrived.</p><p>There is no more conversation until they depart for school. Michael is driving them now; she achieved a perfect score on her safety tests for the family skimmer. They enter in silence, uniforms clean and school bags in their hands. It’s only once they have both secured themselves properly and the journey has begun that Michael says, “They’re going to be harsher now.”</p><p>“Let them.” Spock leans back against the headrest of his chair and closes his eyes. He’s tired; he didn’t sleep enough last night, between homework and ensuring that he had thought through all the possibilities Chaya’s settling entailed. “They cannot change the truth.”</p><p>“You are not liked.”</p><p>“Neither are you.”</p><p>The silence following his truthful statement stretches long enough that Spock sits up and looks at Michael. She’s staring straight ahead, a frown on her face more visibly than a Vulcan would ever dare to allow. Spock lets out a slow breath, as close to a sigh as Vulcans make. “Michael. Did anything change for you when Ariel settled?”</p><p>“Ariel is a thousand times smaller than Chaya, now.” Michael glances briefly at him, a flicker of a smile. “I haven’t done the precise math, I know, but it’s on that order.”</p><p>Spock takes the statement as the peace offering it is: Acknowledgement of the oblique apologies that are the only thing either of them truly know in the midst of Vulcan stoicism. Spock has heard Mother rant about it, when she doesn’t think anyone is listening, but he doesn’t know how to speak of it. That, too, is something he’s sure Mother would see as a problem. For now, he simply says, “We will endure, as we always have.”</p><p>Michael lets out a long slow breath of her own. “I know. We’re good at that, aren’t we?”</p><p>Spock doesn’t say anything, but he hums agreement nonetheless as he closes his eyes and tries to get a last moment of rest.</p>
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